


Where's your Costume?

by MattSmithIsSexy (MattexIsSexy)



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:19:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MattexIsSexy/pseuds/MattSmithIsSexy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fez she’s wearing is tipping forward slightly and making her hair fall over her eyes. A little waistcoat covers her chest and her spare hand hides in her jacket pocket. Studying him, she shakes her head disapprovingly. “Where’s your costume?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where's your Costume?

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by milkforthespookffles/souffles....  
> "Jenna dresses up as a sexy Eleven for a BBC party and runs into Matt :)".

He feels like a stranger amongst all of the cast and crew who still work on projects at the BBC. Although there are of course exceptions, like himself. Having previously claimed he was sick, he’s looking forward to the look on Jenna's face once he makes a surprise appearance. Mentally, he hadn't felt like he belonged in that crowd anymore. They should all just forget about him and focus on the new Doctor. He’s playing a serial killer now, a role which he'd purposely picked to stray away from family tv. There shouldn't be any doubt that he's trying to move on, or has already.

 

The Bowtie catches his eye and it all rushes back. He wants to pull that tweed jacket back on and run around the TARDIS console, grinning as he yells out lines and grabs Jenna's hand. 

 

His eyes wander down the jacket to the black material that makes his eyes widen as he licks his lips. The short black skirt serves as an alternative to his trousers and on show are those gorgeous legs, familiar to him from filming and most recently Comic Con. Oh that little orange skirt that cuts above the knee; one of her more practical garments. Clara's were less so and he'd been gleefully grateful.    

 

“Smith! Didn’t think you were coming so I took your place” Jenna explains with a giggle, hiding her face in a plastic cup as she takes a sip of her orange juice. Party or not, she has work to do in the morning and plans to meet up with Peter.

 

“I’m the party crasher Coleman. I’m the coolest person here” he protests, a huge smile on his face as his eyes lock with hers. He has no idea how she manages to pull off both sexy and cute at the same time, but he’s just glad the feeling’s mutual.

 

The Fez she’s wearing is tipping forward slightly and making her hair fall over her eyes. A little waistcoat covers her chest and her spare hand hides in her jacket pocket. Studying him, she shakes her head disapprovingly. “Where’s your costume?”

 

“Well,” he begins with a smirk. His eyes wander over her body again as he ponders ditching the celebrations. Moving close to her he purrs in her ear, “Technically, you’re wearing my costume.”

 

Jenna’s breathing hitches and she manages to let out a faint chuckle before he bends down slightly and kisses her lips. They’re tiny, teasing pecks of affection that don’t promise that anything will come from them. “Which was very….naughty…of you” he gasps quietly against her lips. She moves her hand up to the back of his head, as if to run it through his hair.

 

He’s moving back from her in seconds, unable to stay in that position too long without hurting his neck. “I’ll have to get you out of that” he warns, voice full of lust even as he steps away to glance around for the other guests. The music’s so loud and either no one cares or no one’s surprised that he’s kissed her. Richard’s firmly out of the picture and the women dressed as the Doctor is his.

 

She puts her drink down and walks over to him, taking hold of his hand and leaning in close. “Only if you try on the skirt” she sniggers, raising an eyebrow at him as she moves a daring hand over his jean-clad thigh. She looks positively sinful and he longs to push her head down in between his legs.

 

She licks her lips as if she’s read his mind and instead of the intended laugh he gulps, “Ok, Doctor.”

 

His eyes rack over her back and then her arse as she turns and walks towards the exit. She’s so adorably short and the only solution he can think of right now is picking her up and pressing her against the wall to wrap her legs around his waist. 

 

Once she cheekily calls out “Geronimo” and leads him back to hers, that’s exactly what he does. 


End file.
